


Puck's Unveiling

by Taliya



Series: Lease on Life [2]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Amnesia, Drama, F/M, Family, First Meetings, Gen, Identity Reveal, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliya/pseuds/Taliya
Summary: Kuroba Shinichi grows up with the desire to become a detective; his ultimate goal: to unmask Kaitou KID.  Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for him, Kaitou KID watches over him from the very beginning as he had in one lifetime before.  Familial Kaito-Shinichi-Ai.
Relationships: Haibara Ai | Miyano Shiho & Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan, Haibara Ai | Miyano Shiho & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan & Nakamori Aoko, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid/Nakamori Aoko
Series: Lease on Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748929
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	1. I: Exposure

**Author's Note:**

> _Detective Conan_ and _Magic Kaito_ characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.
> 
> \---
> 
> Warnings: None

“He’ll be here, I _know_ he will!” A grinning youth of fifteen stumbled out of the stairwell onto the roof of the Haido City Hotel, sharp blue eyes scanning the apparently empty space as he gripped the soccer ball from under his arm. He closed the door behind him, taking in the smooth tiled rooftop broken only by the hulking boxes of the building’s various HVAC units. Coming to a halt beside the parapet, he stared at the Beika Museum, which was aglow with spotlights and helicopter searchlights as he dropped the ball and stopped it absently with a foot.

Kaitou KID had just held a heist, escaping with the Verrazano Emerald if the bitten-back non-curses coming from the police’s radio channels were to be believed. He grinned. It seemed as though the Kaitou KID Task Force Head, Inspector Hakuba Saguru, had yet to warm up to the retired Senior Superintendent Nakamori Ginzo’s ability to swear strongly enough to peel paint. Although judging by the curious gurgles and chokes, he seemed to be making some headway in the cursing department.

To be fair, his grandfather had mellowed a lot since his retirement two years ago, and his mouth had also been metaphorically cleaned repeatedly by his mother, Kuroba Aoko ever since his adoption. Young Kuroba Shinichi loved his mother and his father, Kuroba Kaito, dearly. The policewoman and neurosurgeon pair had adopted him when he was five. He had no memory of who he had been before that one evening he had woken up to a crowd of unfamiliar faces, but it was Aoko who had taken the initiative to calm him down. Later, he had been told that the people there that night had been his closest friends and family. Shinichi had been reintroduced to Kudou Yukiko and Yuusaku, Hondou Ran and Eisuke, Hattori Heiji and Kazuha, Haibara Ai, and Agasa Hiroshi soon after his adoption had been finalized and he had had time to settle into his new family. The last had been unable to attend that night, as he had been out of town for a convention.

Shinichi found out a year ago that his biological parents had originally been the Kudous; his mother was a retired actress and his father a mystery novelist. Aoko and Kaito had sat down with everyone and they had run through their histories. Shinichi had been the Kudous’ only son: a bright, budding detective with a sturdy number of cases under his belt. “Heisei Holmes”, the media had called him for his astounding deductions. His best friend growing up had been Ran, who now had a cherubic nine-year-old daughter named Miyoko. Agasa was the Kudous’ longtime neighbor and the first to find out about the poisoning.

The professor had explained to Shinichi how he had been de-aged by a poison formulated by the Black Organization, and how he had taken up the name of Edogawa Conan. Ai, his godmother, had then taken up the explanation of how the drug worked and who she had been before she had become Haibara Ai. During the time he was Conan he had befriended Hattori Heiji and his childhood friend Toyama Kazuha, who were now the proud parents of rambunctious ten-year-old Heisho. They each spoke of their past history with Shinichi, weaving a tale so outlandish as to become almost fantastical, had their individual stories not matched up perfectly.

When Shinichi asked how the Kurobas had fit into the story, Kaito had grinned secretively—much to the Kudous’ and Ai’s amusement and to the Hattoris’ and Hondous’ confusion—and told his adoptive son that they had once upon a time been friends of sorts, and that Kaito currently owed Shinichi a huge favor. There was also the fact that his father, Kuroba Touichi, had been the one to instruct Kudou Yukiko in the intricate art of disguising, and therefore was a family friend of the Kudous. When asked what specifically that favor was, the surgeon had winked at his son and murmured, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Aoko, Yukiko, Yuusaku, and Ai had snorted at the comment, and the policewoman had swatted her husband’s arm in exasperation.

Shinichi had never gotten his explanation no matter how much he begged, wheedled, or pleaded with either of his parents, and so had grudgingly dropped the subject after a week. The thought was never too far from his mind, but he never once voiced it again, willing himself to wait for the time his parents deemed appropriate. They had, after all, never lied to him about anything—only told him bluntly that his questions had answers that they did not yet feel comfortable answering him at the time, and that they would in due course answer him when they felt appropriate.

To be fair, they had always addressed him as though he was an adult despite whatever age he had been, and as such, he had grown into a self-assured youth with a firm grasp on who he was, and all of his teachers in school had remarked on his maturity and confidence. Whenever either of his parents felt that he was growing too arrogant, his father was usually the one to knock a little sense back into him, either through completely outwitting him by sheer knowledge or by pranking him using methods that Shinichi had always eventually failed in his attempts to uncover.

Kuroba Kaito, his adoptive father, was a surgical neuro-oncologist who worked at Ekoda Central Hospital and removed brain tumors for a living, amongst other things related to the brain. A veritable genius in his field, Kaito designed and developed procedures and equipment designed to reduce surgery times and patient recovery times when he had time in between scheduled operations, which he published in various accredited medical journals. He was often asked to speak at conferences and at medical school seminars, giving others in his field insight into the new and different ways they needed to view the brain and the ways they were all going about fixing it. When he was not playing doctor, Kaito could oftentimes be found at home helping his son with his homework, playing soccer with his son, or practicing magic tricks for his own amusement.

Kuroba Aoko, his adoptive mother, was an assistant inspector in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department’s Division One Homicide Unit. She dealt with murderers and victims and the left behind family and friends. Despite the grimness of her job, she always came home with a warm smile reserved especially for her son and husband. She was not the best cook, as her hamburger steak still had a tendency to fall apart, but with Kaito’s help the pair made decent, healthy dinners. Aoko had a temper she had inherited from her father, to be sure, as he had watched more times than he could count his mother chasing after his father with a mop. The former would be flushed pink from either embarrassment or indignation, while the latter would laugh and dodge. But despite their frequent bickering, Shinichi could tell that his parents were deeply in love with each other, and he only hoped that he would one day find someone to share his life with in much the same way his parents had.

One of the things Shinichi had noticed early on was that his mother had taken to keeping close tabs on him, as for whatever reason, murders tended to crop up around him. The first time a dead body had fallen down before him, he had been just shy of being a Kuroba for two weeks and was with his new parents in a small family restaurant. Considering just how voracious a mystery reader he was, it was not all that surprising that he had kept his wits about him and followed his mother’s lead.

Aoko had immediately requested that none of the restaurant patrons leave the premises while Kaito had groaned while pulling out his phone to call Aoko’s superior, Inspector Satou Miwako. Shinichi had watched with avid attention as Aoko had begun interrogating all of the people within the restaurant for their alibis, drinking in the situation. Kaito had gently pulled his son away from the murder site, situating the pair of them off to the side and out of the way, but still close enough for them to still hear the proceedings. When Shinichi had protested, Kaito had murmured in his ear, “Watch and see how the professionals do it so that later you will know how to be of use to them in the future,” and Shinichi had instantly settled on his lap, silent and attentive.

It had been amazing to watch the detectives solve the murder, and it was even more impressive that his mother had been the one to deduce the perpetrator. Shinichi got to watch the forensics team at work, to see what sort of evidence they were after. He got to listen to what sorts of questions had to be asked by the homicide detectives, got to hear how questions had to be phrased in order to verbally sway their murder suspects. The process only served to cement his dream of becoming a detective. And as he grew, he sometimes was allowed to tag along on the cases his mother was party to, helping to solve each and every one—though more often than not, it was usually him calling his mother to report a case.

Those in the department who had known Edogawa Conan remarked upon how similar the young boy and Kuroba Shinichi were in their deductive strategies. Aoko had laughed and brushed it off, since Conan had gone back to the States long before she and Kaito had adopted Shinichi. Even the aging Chief Superintendent Megure Juuzo had alluded to their similarities, along with his own observations regarding Kuroba Shinichi and Kudou Shinichi. Slowly but surely, the young detective began to build a reputation for himself, though he had friends from school who shared his enthusiasm if not his knowledge for solving mysteries.

Kuroba Shinichi had a small but close group of friends—a boy and two girls. They had attached themselves immediately to him his first day of class in the first grade. Their names were Matsuoka Koichi, Kimura Michiko, and Ueda Yuki. Koichi was a bright young boy with an interest in all things mechanical. He would take things apart and reassemble them, much to the chagrin of his parents. A natural engineer, he was a great practical counterpart to Shinichi’s more cognitive abilities. Michiko was a sweet, talkative girl with a head for puzzles. She liked to play word and logic puzzles, was a voracious reader of fantasy novels, and had a knack for parsing out murderer motives. Yuki, the other girl, was much more quiet and thoughtful. She rarely spoke, but whenever she did, she proved to have amazing insight for her age. She was not compulsive like her other three friends, preferring to think through situations first before acting. She made for a great sounding board for Shinichi whenever he was thinking through a deduction. The foursome had decided to call themselves the “Tantei-Kai”, and like the Shounen-Tantei, had gone about solving problems for their classmates and generally getting themselves unintentionally entangled in the affairs of Division One.

As for Shinichi himself, well, he was still very much Kudou Shinichi minus the memories. He still worshiped Sherlock Holmes, still loved to play soccer, still was a daredevil skateboarder and snowboarder, and still was, as Ai had once upon a time called him on several occasions, a “corpse-magnet”. Kaito had forgone equipping him with the power-enhancing kick shoes, turbo engine skateboard, or the stun-gun wristwatch, as he felt his son should not need to require such heavy artillery in his day-to-day life. Of course, as he had perfect vision, Shinichi did not wear glasses of any sort, nor did he wear a bowtie unless it was for some formal black-tie event. The phantom thief, like his wife, kept a keen eye on their son to ensure that he did not run into more trouble than he could handle, which, thankfully, usually ended up as nothing more than the usual murder and not something closer to the Black Organization.

For all that Shinichi liked his friends, he still needed his own time to do his own things. The Tantei-Kai had, surprisingly, lasted into their high school years, and each member had independently decided early on in elementary school that they should make a serious attempt to capture Kaitou KID while they were still in primary school. They had begged Shinichi to use his connections with the police to procure heist notices, but his mother had refused, citing that Kaitou KID heists were not literally for kids, no matter how bright or determined they were. Still, the group persisted in bothering Shinichi’s mother, even up to the day before yesterday, when the phantom thief had released a new riddle. Aoko had once again refused, though she had finally relented in private to her son.

So here he was now, ten years after observing the first case that he could remember, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the famed Kaitou KID with a soccer ball at the ready. Shinichi had been thrilled to get his hands on a copy of the heist notice courtesy of his mother, who was good friends with Inspector Hakuba. Both his parents were actually on good terms with the inspector, though he and his father tended to bicker. A lot. His mother would often giggle and mock whisper that they secretly loved each other, and it would instantly put an end to their arguing.

Shinichi had noticed that, oddly enough, there had been no one standing watch inside the hotel lobby. He had been sure that the inspector had solved the heist riddle correctly, so why were there not more people stationed here? He shrugged, keeping his eyes on Beika Museum. This was his chance to catch the gentleman thief singlehandedly. He grinned in delighted anticipation.

“Looking for someone?” a lilting voice asked from behind him, and Shinichi whirled on his heel to find none other than Kaitou KID standing blithely on the roof of the stairwell. His cape rustled in the light evening breeze, and he had tugged the brim of his top hat down over his eyes, making identification impossible. One gloved hand idly rolled the night’s prize, the Verrazano Emerald, between dexterous fingers. Despite the backlight from the moon, Shinichi could make out a cocky grin on the Magician Under the Moonlight’s half-hidden countenance.

Kaitou KID vanished the gem and hopped nimbly off the stairwell, landing on silent feet as his cloak fluttered behind him. _There is something oddly familiar about this person,_ Shinichi noted as KID approached him with an easy lope. _His posture? His build? His manner of movement?_

“Good evening,” the phantom thief greeted, stretching and enunciating the individual syllables of the word, stopping a few meters away.

“Kaitou KID,” Shinichi greeted, hating the way his voice minutely wavered with his barely contained excitement. By the way KID’s grin widened, it was readily apparent that he had heard it too.

The gentleman thief stared quietly at Shinichi for a moment before he seemed to snap back to the present, despite no physical evidence of him having to do so. “Young men your age should be home playing video games or studying, not wandering about on hotel rooftops,” he stated as he casually stuffed his gloved hands in his pockets.

Shinichi lightly dribbled the soccer ball between his feet. “Oh? And what if I happened to be here because I frequent the place?”

KID snorted softly in amusement. “I haven’t noticed anything here that would indicate you hang around here much,” he answered, the cant of his head revealing his good humor. “You were waiting here tonight just for me, weren’t you, _Tantei-kun_?”

The teen jerked as though he had been shocked with an electric current. Why had the way KID had said “Tantei-kun” sounded so familiar? Watching the thief with much more wary eyes, he murmured, “Who are you?”

“Kaitou KID, your friendly neighborhood international phantom thief,” he answered with a tip of his head. The white-clad magician continued to grin, though it had softened into something halfway towards a smile. “But I am… well, many things. I am a magician. I am a thief. I am an infiltrator. I am a dreamer. I am an inspirer. But you to, Tantei-kun, I have been your enemy, your rival, your ally, and your friend.”

Shinichi’s breath hitched. “Wh-What?” His eyes were wide and he took an inadvertent step back, shocked. “You knew me—from before?”

Kaitou KID nodded his head in confirmation, his smile still there but no longer as bright. “Indeed, _Meitantei_.”

“How—” he whispered, mind reeling as he tried to fit the pieces together, the familiarity of this man making his brain itch madly. “How do you fit in?” Shinichi’s five-year—in reality thirty-year, if he wanted to get technical—memory gap had always been something of a sore spot that, no matter how much his older friends and family talked, failed to trigger them. The Kudous and Ran had covered his life in great detail, with Heiji, Ai, and Agasa covering the years he had spent as Edogawa Conan regarding his chase of the Black Organization. But where in all of this had KID fit in? From what he could parse out, the Kurobas had been family friends through his biological mother, Kudou Yukiko, so there really was not any explanation needed there, right? Well, aside from the favor his father said that he owed… Shinichi ruffled his bangs in frustration while KID only watched calmly from where he stood.

“I’ll give you a hint, Meitantei,” the thief said, and the detective perked up. “To you, I was always considered entertainment, no matter how old you were. It was, at least, all fun and games until you requested my aid in order to take down the Black Organization.”

Blue eyes widened at the information. So, KID had been part of the Black Organization takedown? Why had Heiji and Ai not mentioned him? And he had considered the thief an amusement? He shook his head, filing away the ideas for later contemplation. Right now, he had a thief to catch. “Well thanks for the information, KID,” he stated, a grin curling his lips. “If you’re as ‘fun’ as you say you are, then let’s get down to the chase, shall we?”

KID bared his teeth in a smirk. “You’ve never been successful before, Meitantei,” he warned as he pulled out his iconic card gun.

“There’s always a first time,” Shinichi retorted and launched his soccer ball at the magician with a powerful, accurate kick. Shinichi’s superior proficiency in soccer had, his first time through middle school, drawn the attention of scouts from the Tokyo Spirits. The recruiter had asked him to consider taking up the sport professionally, and the youth had responded that he would consider it. He had then gone home to discuss the option with his parents, who listened and laid out his options from their standpoint, allowing him to choose for himself. The middle school boy had contacted the recruiter and turned down the offer with the explanation that being a detective was still his desire, and the man had thanked Shinichi for his time and instructed him to call if he ever changed his mind. The second time around he had again been approached, and yet again he had declined.

To his utter surprise, the phantom thief dodged the ball with uncanny ease, placing Shinichi in the sights of his card gun and firing. The detective ducked and twisted to avoid getting nicked by the razor-sharp cards, which embedded themselves in the tile flooring. He slid behind the relative safety of one of the HVACs, panting heavily as he strained his ears for any hit of the thief’s whereabouts. Unfortunately for him, Kaitou KID was a master at what he did, and moving silently was a necessity for a thief. A soft thump from above was the only warning he had as he glanced up to find a beaming KID squatting on the HVAC, a canister in his hand.

“Good night!” the thief chirped, and Shinichi’s world faded away in a cloud of pink sleeping gas.

\---

Kaitou KID’s words proved true. Shinichi, after having gained his parents’ unspoken permission to attend KID heists, found the heists themselves and the subsequent pursuits to be absolutely thrilling. KID was so inventive, so cunning, that he kept Shinichi on his toes, though always frustratingly at least one step behind. It was a refreshing change from the murder cases that he routinely encountered in his everyday life. Aoko had taken to bringing in a copy of the thief’s heist notices, and the Kuroba son would eagerly snatch it away to solve it in the comfort of his room—the room that was once Kaito’s. Kaito and Aoko would always trade doting, amused glances once their boy had scurried out of sight.

And on the nights of KID heists, when Kaito’s schedule would allow, he would accompany his son to the event, content to stand in the crowd while his pride and joy disappeared behind the police blockade. Needless to say, it took Shinichi some—and according to him, an embarrassingly long—time to figure out that his father was none other than the infamous Kaitou KID. There had been hints scattered here and there by Kaito, as Aoko had been content to let her husband deal with that particular secret on his own.

Whenever Shinichi felt frustrated but not all too keen on discussing whatever topic it was with his parents, he turned to his godmother, Haibara Ai. The strawberry blonde was a veritable genius in her own right, a mastermind in the fields of biochemistry, neurology, pharmacology, and genetics. She was the youngest-ever tenured faculty in Touto University, and brought in millions of yen in research grants for the multiple Faculties of Science, Medicine, and Pharmaceutical Sciences. She had a house in Mejirodai, which was not too far from the university campus, and she had outfitted one of the bedrooms with some of the best laboratory equipment money could buy. Occasionally she would allow him the chance to watch her perform her experiments, or even help, though most of her work was done in the university labs.

He had called her ahead of time that afternoon to ensure she was home in the evening before informing his parents of his whereabouts and making the trek to Bunkyo, his thoughts on the latest heist that had occurred the night before. KID, at every heist Shinichi had been able to privately corner him, had dropped hints regarding his place in the detective’s life. Thus far the clues the thief had given were:

-Kaitou KID had been a source of entertainment for the former Kudou Shinichi;

-Kaitou KID had helped, at Kudou Shinichi’s invitation, in bringing down the Black Organization;

-Kaitou KID had, and still did, consider Shinichi in whatever form, his friend and ally;

-Kaitou KID had been in Kudou Shinichi’s debt a couple of times, and had usually paid them back in full;

-Kaitou KID had mentioned that he was in Kudou Shinichi’s debt for one particular event he felt he would never be able to fully repay;

-Kaitou KID had been able to disguise as Kudou Shinichi multiple times, much to then-Edogawa Conan’s frustration;

-Kaitou KID had almost managed to kiss Ran, who at the time had been Shinichi’s love interest;

-Kaitou KID had a goal, which was why he sought and returned gems of noteworthy size;

-Kaitou KID had mentioned that the object of his search could only be determined via the light of the full moon;

-Kaitou KID had once had to rescue Shinichi from being thrown out of an airship overtaken by bioterrorists;

-Kaitou KID had always been thwarted by Shinichi’s interference, though he had never been unmasked;

-Kaitou KID had been close enough in age to Kudou Shinichi to be brothers;

-Kaitou KID had considered Kudou Shinichi a more than worthy adversary who required special measures whenever he attended heists;

-Kaitou KID was actually the second person to claim the name after the original had been murdered;

-Kaitou KID considered himself Shinichi’s protector, whatever that meant.

Needless to say, Shinichi was rather confused regarding the role that Kaitou KID had played in his previous life. The young detective knew that his father was an avid KID fan as the neurosurgeon had made no attempt to hide that fact, much to his mother’s fondly exasperated chagrin. In light of that fact and considering that his current troubles stemmed from the white-clad thief, Shinichi felt that his father was perhaps too biased on the topic, and therefore had decided to contact his godmother.

When he arrived, his godmother had a pot of tea warmed and waiting for the two of them. A slender, elegant woman in her mid-thirties, Haibara Ai was a beautiful woman of mixed heritage. Half Irish and half Japanese, she had inherited her wavy reddish locks and sharp teal eyes from her mother, along with her father’s petite bone structure.

The pair settled on her couch in her living room, and Ai waited for Shinichi to organize his thoughts. “Haibara,” he started. He had never been able to call her by her first name; there was just an air about his godmother that seemed to forbid anyone getting to close, though she had never minded how he addressed her. His parents—both sets, though Yukiko addressed her by her first name—as well as the Hattoris and Hondous referred to her by her surname, and Shinichi had taken up the habit. The professor was the only other one who called her by her given name, but that had probably been due to the fact that they had lived for years with each other before the scientist had moved out on her own once she was able to support herself financially.

“Haibara,” he repeated, staring into the depths of his Darjeeling, “Who is Kaitou KID to me?”

Ai froze momentarily mid sip before she deliberately set down her cup in her saucer and set the porcelain on the coffee table and turned her eyes onto her godson. “I take it he’s been talking to you at his heists?” she inquired.

Shinichi nodded. “He’s been giving me hints about our past—my past. They seem to tickle at my memory, and I’m frustrated that I can’t reach them. I feel like I know him—have known him for a while now—” the scientist inwardly laughed at the irony of Shinichi’s statement, “—but when could I have possibly met him outside of a heist?”

The phantom thief had proven repeatedly to the young sleuth why it was impossible to catch him: with his skill in disguising, his dexterity, his agility, and his ingenuity, the magician was more slippery than an eel, and, had KID bothered, more than equally dangerous. Kaitou KID had proven his ability to successfully infiltrate and hack his way into any form of security, and with skills such as those, he had the capacity to bring the world to his knees if he so chose.

The detective growled, setting his drained teacup down and ruffling his bangs in irritation. “If only I had my memories back,” he griped sulkily. “Then it would be so easy to figure out who he is.”

“So you say,” Ai replied, taking up her tea once more. “And yet you weren’t able to figure out who he was before.” Shinichi pouted at the remark, and Ai smirked at seeing that familiar expression. “Well, don’t worry too much about it,” she continued, “Since you have always been the closest to ever catching him anyway.”

“Haibara,” he whined, dragging out the last syllable of her name, “You aren’t helping here.”

Ai huffed as she set her empty cup back on the table. “Oh? What was I supposed to help you with, Shinichi?”

“How am I supposed to know?” the teen grumbled. “I thought that since you were involved in de-aging me, you might have some insight.”

“Shinichi,” Ai chided, “Just because I know my biochemical compounds does not mean I am the deductive geek that you are.” Despite her somewhat harsh words, she reached out and pulled the boy to her in a rare hug. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Shinichi,” she murmured into his hair. “Kaitou KID has always had nothing but your best interests at heart. Trust me.” She held her godson until he dozed off comfortably in her arms, grateful that she could provide some form of relief for the young man who had been her savior. Her eyes strayed to the darkened genkan, where she picked out the dimly illuminated form of KID. He silently nodded his top-hatted head at her and disappeared. Ai settled Shinichi on her couch, scooting a pillow under his head and tossing a warm blanket over him.

\---

Shinichi growled under his breath. This newest participant to KID’s heist was sorely grating on his nerves. The man was a Frenchman by the name of Mathieu Duchamps, a new face in the ICPO who was eager to prove himself. And what better way to build his reputation than by capturing the infamous Kaitou KID? While Shinichi had, by now seen a handful of detectives attempt to catch the Magician Under the Moonlight, none had ever come with a “shoot first, questions later” policy—at least, not that he knew of. So it was with some trepidation on KID’s behalf that he attended the latest heist, worried for the phantom thief’s ability to escape unharmed.

He need not have worried. KID had displayed his usual impeccable flair for the dramatic and had managed to hamstring Duchamps in the trap the French detective himself had set, all the while succeeding in keeping himself free from Inspector Hakuba’s covetous grasp. The inspector was currently busy trying to untangle Duchamps from his rather intricate snare of ropes and netting. The young detective had once again found himself at KID’s departure location alone, with the thief performing his ritual moon-check. Tonight’s target had been a ruby from India—the Heart of Mahal Mumtaz.

Shinichi waited patiently for the thief to finish his check, his blood running cold when he noticed that tonight’s gem did not merely refract the moonlight into a reddish hue, but seemed to emanate a glow that was entirely its own. The sight sent primal chills arcing down his spine, made him want to scramble backwards to somewhere he could hide, and he watched as KID’s expression went from one of utmost seriousness to a mixture of utmost satisfaction, relief, awe, and—oddly enough—repugnance and regret.

“ _Do you see_ , Meitantei?” he whispered, never once taking his eyes off his prize, his face lit with bloody light, and Shinichi could hear the tremble of emotion in his voice. _“Do you see it?”_

The detective had to force himself forward, one step at a time, so great was his aversion to the stone. “What—what _is_ that?”

 _“This,”_ the phantom thief breathed reverently, “This is what I have been seeking for the _last three decades_.” He sighed gently, shakily, as he made the gem disappear before turning to regard the inquisitive teenage. “It means I can finally retire from this life, Meitantei.”

KID’s words slammed into Shinichi like a punch to the gut. “But—” he protested, some part of his mind bizarrely wondering why he wanted the gentleman thief to continue his thieving. “You can’t just quit!”

The magician chuckled. “Oh yes I can, Meitantei,” he replied easily, pulling the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. “And I will. These aging joints of mine are nowhere near as limber as they used to be, and I am not nearly as spry as I once was.”

Shinichi wondered how that was remotely possible, considering just how agile the thief was _now_.

The phantom thief turned to face the edge of the building and the night sky. “Now all that’s left is to perform my last disappearing trick,” KID murmured, voice heavy with contentment and nostalgia. He activated the hydraulic rods that braced the frame for his trademark hang glider, Shinichi still to too much shock from the news to react. “Well then…” he said with a glance at the youth, and bent his knees in preparation to spring off the roof.

“Wait!” The sight of Kaitou KID leaving, probably for good, spurred him to call out to the thief.

Kaitou KID paused, relaxing his legs though he still remained ready to leave at the slightest provocation. “Yes…?”

Shinichi took a moment to drink in the sight of Kaitou KID, basked in the cool blues of the moonlight. “Will I ever see you again?” he asked, knowing that KID would now be forever beyond his reach if he had found what he sought. The question came out with child-like hesitancy, a stark contrast to his usual confidence.

The thief smiled—not one of his usual smirks, but a true smile. “Meitantei,” he addressed the youth softly with warmth and puckish amusement in his uncovered eye, “I’m a lot closer than you think.” And with that, Kaitou KID leapt off the edge and soared away, only to entirely disappear midair in a burst of pink smoke and confetti, though not before he heard the report of a gunshot. Shinichi heard the cry from the Task Force, but without any way to trace KID, he could only linger and wait for the police to find evidence that KID had survived.

The ride home on the trains was spent in tense but thoughtful silence on Shinichi’s part. KID’s parting statement had his mind buzzing more angrily than a swarm of bees. What had the thief meant by that? And was he okay? He absently exited the Seibu Ikebukuro Line train at Ekoda Station, walking back towards the Kuroba home on autopilot as his mind churned and chewed over KID’s last riddle.

“I’m back,” he automatically called out as he entered the house, freezing upon entering the genkan to the sight of white leather monk straps lined up neatly next to his father’s black oxfords. He noticed that he had received no welcoming reply as well. Toeing off his shoes, he grabbed his house slippers and continued into the house in socked feet, listening carefully for any noises not customary to the Kuroba household. His ears picked up the sound of soft snuffling along with his mother’s hushed murmurs of comfort, and it seemed to be coming from the kitchen.

“Kaa-san?” he called out as he rounded the entrance to the kitchen, only to once again freeze upon finding the white back of Kaitou KID wrapped around his mother while her arms curled tightly about the phantom thief’s caped shoulders, the left of which was stained crimson. The magician’s top hat sat on the island countertop in the kitchen, along with his gloves and monocle. The thief himself had his head bent into Aoko’s neck, and the policewoman moved a hand to soothingly card her fingers through KID’s hair.

“Hush, Kaito,” he heard his mother whisper as KID cried softly, “It’s okay. It’s over.”

“K-KID!” Shinichi gasped, and though his mother started, having not heard her son return, the thief never once twitched.

“Shinichi…” Aoko breathed, eyes wide even though she refused to let go of the white-clad criminal in their home. “Shinichi—”

“Why is he here?” Shock instantaneously gave way to betrayal, despite the fact that KID was injured and staining his mother’s clothing with his blood. Had his mother been having an affair behind his father’s back?

Kaitou KID chuckled from behind the curtain of Aoko’s hair, the sound a mixture of amusement and mild offense. “Oi, oi, I’m here because I happen to live here,” he informed as he released Aoko and straightened. His shoulders dropped in an audible sigh before he turned to meet his son’s stunned eyes, his right hand automatically coming up to tightly grip his injury. “Good evening,” he greeted perfectly in KID’s lilting tones despite the fact that he had been crying not thirty seconds ago. When Shinichi continued to gape, Kaito quirked a rueful smile and said, “Hey there, Shinichi.”

That seemed to partially snap Shinichi out of his daze. “You…”

“Me,” Kaito echoed, waiting for his son’s mental processes to catch up. Aoko wrapped an arm around his waist to support him, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. Shinichi took in the completely bizarre and incongruous image of an unmasked Kaitou KID standing shoulder to shoulder with one of the TMPD’s most promising homicide detectives.

“But—but you…” Shinichi stuttered, unable to move past the idea that his father had been Kaitou KID all this time. The hints, from both his father and KID, flooded back into his mind. What had his brain been doing _all this time_!?

“I did say I was closer than you thought, didn’t I?” and there was a playful edge in his father’s voice beneath the tiredness and pain.

Shinichi chuckled, the sound blooming into somewhat hysterical laugher. It was either that or cry out of embarrassment for not catching on sooner. He leaned against the island as his legs gave way, only to be caught by a strong arm and held against a body that smelled so familiar to him. “I’ve got you, Shinichi,” his father murmured as the shock finally managed to overwhelm him. “I always will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: So this piece sort of hit me like a train running at speeds similar to the Shinkansen. It literally took me three days to write this section—that was how badly I needed to get this out of my brain. Though most of that extra time was due to the fact that I work in an office at an eight-to-five job. At any rate, the idea would not leave me alone. That and giving Shinichi a good jolt never hurt anyone, right? I chose the title because I wanted to use an idea that was an opposite of an angel, but wasn’t exactly a devil since I don’t consider Shinichi demonic in any way. Mischievous, certainly; hence the name. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> \---
> 
> Completed: 24.10.2015


	2. II: Concession

Kuroba Shinichi came to an hour later, stretched on the couch with a blanket tucked around him. On the floor before the lit fireplace sat his parents, snuggled next to one another with his father absently contact juggling the Heart of Mahal Mumtaz in his one good hand. His sharp intake at the reminder had both of his parents looking his way, their faces silhouetted in burnished golds and bronzes from the flames. Neither moved towards him, giving him the option of staying or leaving. Shinichi pushed himself up into a sitting position, eyes unable to hold the nonjudgmental gazes of his parents.

After some time, Shinichi ventured, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Kaito swiveled to lean on the coffee table, his back to the fire, and Aoko copied him. “Yes,” the neurosurgeon replied, vanishing the ruby. “I had always intended to tell you, Shinichi.” His father’s eyes were warm and gentle. “I just wanted to be sure you were ready for that particular truth. Well, that and you had a bit of fun figuring it out.”

“Bakaito,” his mother chided, nudging him, “Leave him time to think it through.” She turned her eyes, which were equally warm and open, towards him. “Take as long as you need to think it over. We both believe you are old enough now to have any question you ask answered, and… well, there are no more secrets between us anymore.” She stood up gracefully and made her way over to her adopted son. Leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, she murmured, “We weren’t expecting you to find out like this, but… At least try to get some sleep tonight, okay?”

“Alright,” he replied, and hugged her around her waist, which she returned before heading to her and Kaito’s shared bedroom to retire for the night.

Kaito smiled lightly at his son and twisted back around to face the fire, content to bask in its warmth for a while longer. Shinichi remained where he was for several more moments before he stood and shuffled to sit next to his father, the blanket abandoned on the couch. The pair sat quietly before the flames, Shinichi uncertain of how to broach the topic that was foremost on his mind, and Kaito allowing Shinichi all the time in the world to think things over.

In hindsight, it was all too easy to make the connection from Kaitou KID to his father. Though the idea had occurred in passing, Shinichi had never given the thought more than a cursory glance. It had never occurred to him that his father, of all people, willingly broke the law on a regular basis. Kaito was someone who, despite possessing one of the most impish personalities he had come across, abided by the law like any other regular Japanese citizen, and he had never once demonstrated any sort of kleptomaniac tendencies. Sure, Kaito was incredibly smart and a superb magician, but Shinichi had never truly given thought to the idea of Kaito turning his skills to thievery.

“Why did you steal?” The question was soft and low, and Kaito almost missed it entirely had he not been waiting for Shinichi to begin.

The now-retired thief released a puff of air, eyes still firmly on the flickering tongues of fire before them. “You know how my father instructed your mother—Yukiko-san—in how to disguise?” At Shinichi’s nod, which registered in the periphery of his vision, Kaito continued. “Well, Oyaji was actually the first Kaitou KID. Kaitou KID was born as result of meeting my mother, Chikage.”

Shinichi blinked, unsure of why Kuroba Touichi meeting one woman had turned him to a life of thievery. The youngest Kuroba had met his adopted paternal grandmother several times whenever she visited from Singapore with her second husband. She was a spunky woman, energetic and quirky, and Shinichi had liked her immensely. She reminded him of his own biological mother Kudou Yukiko, only not quite as… insane?

As if reading his son’s thoughts, Kaito chuckled. “Oyaji met Kaa-san in the middle of a theft in Paris, when she had still been known Phantom Lady. And please note, at that point in time _he_ was not the thief.” Kaito immensely enjoyed the look of utter befuddlement and emerging comprehension on his son’s face. “ _She_ was.”

“S-Seriously…?” Shinichi stuttered, processing this latest bombshell. Scratch that thought about his biological mother. Kaito’s mother was worse. “You’re crazy,” he whispered, feeling the beginnings of laughter well up inside him. “You’re _all_ crazy!” The laughter bubbled from his lips, and he guffawed long and hard.

Kaito watched his son carefully, looking for signs of impending shock. Luckily, it seemed that this time around Shinichi was a little better equipped to deal with life-changing factoids, for he sobered up quickly enough. The magician quirked an inquiring eyebrow. “Feel better?”

Shinichi snorted. “Yeah,” he answered, getting the last of his giggles out of his system. “So… Phantom Lady?”

“Kaa-san, like Yukiko-san, always had a flair for the dramatic. It was part of the reason they got along so well while Yukiko-san was under Oyaji’s tutelage.” Kaito returned his eyes to the flre. “Kaa-san took up being a phantom thief because she felt that the powerful corrupt did not deserve the fineries they could buy with money. She stole forgeries of famous items and turned them in to the police. The people who bought the forgeries could not lodge complaints because to do so would reveal that they had wanted to buy a stolen item.”

“Everybody wins in such a scenario,” Shinichi murmured, seeing the logic behind Phantom Lady’s actions.

“But she was still a criminal,” Kaito remarked with a shrug.

“So how did your dad get mixed into the phantom thief business?” he inquired.

A fond smiled graced the surgeon’s face. “Oyaji happened to be at a display inside the Eiffel Tower the night Kaa-san held a heist. She got ‘cuffed to a motorcycle that had a fake diamond embedded into it. The whole setup was a trap by a group of forgers determined to flush Phantom Lady out once and for all. Luckily for Kaa-san, Oyaji drove the bike out the window, releasing her from the handcuff at the same time. He glided away with Kaa-san in his arms, and at the same time asked her if he could date her. The rest, I guess, is history.” Kaito leaned back on his hands. “Kaa-san quit being Phantom Lady, and Oyaji picked up where she left off.”

Shinichi took several minutes to digest this latest bit of data before he asked, “So where do you come into the story?”

Kaito shot his son a grin, one that Shinichi had come to recognize as uniquely KID. “I’ll get to that in a moment. Back to Oyaji as the first Kaitou KID—he picked up where Kaa-san left off after several years of training himself for the role. When he finally emerged on the world stage, he caught the eye of many, police and otherwise, for his skill. One of those to approach him was a syndicate after a mythical gem said to grant the seeker immortality under the right conditions. This stone was called Pandora. To make a long story short, Oyaji refused, and so they chased and eventually murdered him for his refusal as he had learned too much about them.”

The young detective shuddered, recognizing the blankness in his father’s tone—that could only be KID’s infamous Poker Face at work. He gazed at his father, who had fallen silent as he contemplated the orange depths of the flames, and flicked him lightly on the cheek. Kaito started with a small protest, and Shinichi admonished, “No Poker Face. Not here.”

The surgeon sighed with a sheepish grin. “I’m getting chided by my own son,” he lamented. “What’s this world coming to?”

“Barou,” Shinichi retorted jokingly, leaning on his father’s good shoulder, and Kaito automatically wrapped his arm around his son’s. The two of them sat comfortably, enjoying each other’s presence. “Why did you never teach me Poker Face?”

Kaito leaned his chin thoughtfully on the crown of his son’s head. “Because I wanted you to be who you were, without my interference. Of course,” he added with a somewhat apologetic smile that Shinichi could not see, “In many ways it was inevitable that I would have some influence on you—being your adoptive father and all, but I wanted you to be the person you were always meant to be: the one who unfailingly sought justice, no matter who it was. The one who believed that all life was precious, no matter whose it belonged to. The one who always gave his all to corner me at heists for twenty years. No masks, no deception, no need to hide who you are.” He sighed, and the sound held a tinge of regret. “That’s… that had always been my role.”

Shinichi sighed. He wondered absently what it would have been like to grow up having known how to use Poker Face, but then thought of the various ways it would have changed his outlook on how he viewed people and the world. Shinichi was no stranger to the darker aspects of society, having been confronted with death for as long as he could remember. But had he learned Poker Face, how to hide and lock away his emotions… “Thank you,” he murmured, surprising his father, “For not teaching me Poker Face.” He felt the warmth of his father’s deep exhale in his hair. “So?” he prodded, “When did you pick up the monocle?”

“I found out after I turned sixteen that Oyaji had been Kaitou KID, and not long after I encountered the same group of men who had killed him.” A melancholy but affectionate smile graced Kaito’s lips, though Shinichi could not see it. “Then I met you as Edogawa Conan. We played—we chased, teased, bickered, and fought with each other. But then you requested my help to infiltrate the Black Organization. It’s why both Haibara and Hattori did not know about my participation. I was fully undercover and could not reveal myself. I got you the information you needed to bring them down. Then I continued on my merry way as KID, and along the way… you helped me catch Oyaji’s murderers, brought down the Syndicate they had been a part of.” He pulled away, regarding his brilliant son with steady, grateful eyes. “And that is the debt I can never repay, Shinichi. Without you… they would have never been arrested.”

The surgeon’s son gazed bashfully back at his father. “I would have done that for anyone,” he murmured, blushing under his father’s eyes.

Kaito laughed as he pulled Shinichi in for a hug. “I know. And that is why you’ve always been my favorite critic, Meitantei.”

Shinichi barked a laugh. “But now I can’t say I’ve caught you, since you willingly revealed yourself to me, Kaitou KID.”

“Oh really?” Kaito inquired with humor infused in his question. “Did you want me to keep stealing so that you can try to catch me?”

The teenager snorted softly. “No. Bad enough that Kaitou KID just happens to be my dad, but that he’s married to an assistant inspector?” He chuckled. “Who the hell did I piss off in a past life to warrant _this_?”

“No idea,” the magician answered, “But regardless, I personally wouldn’t have changed anything if it meant I lost this.” He ruffled his son’s hair, and Shinichi laughed in agreement as he swatted at his father’s hand.

The pair sat in quiet for a while before Shinichi broke the silence. “So who were they this time?” When his father glanced at him quizzically, he gestured to Kaito’s injured arm, the one that he had not used once during their interactions this evening. It was luckily his left arm that had been injured.

Kaito glanced down at his wounded arm, his brows crinkling. “I’m not sure. You had been thorough enough to round up all of the Syndicate. I can’t imagine you would leave loose ends. Besides, they only winged me—not enough damage to debilitate.” The surgeon’s eyes hardened. “But if they are after Pandora, I’m going to have to stop them since I know I found it last night. You saw it yourself.”

Shinichi shuddered, recalling the gem that repelled and repulsed him on the most primitive of levels. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Destroy it,” Kaito replied casually. “Make it so that no one will be able to obtain immortality. But I’ll also have to let this newest set of seekers—I doubt there will be only one person involved—know that I’ve destroyed it without letting on to anyone else that it ever existed to begin with.”

“So have one last heist and hide the message in the notice,” Shinichi concluded simply. “You draw them out; leave the rest to me and Kaa-san.” There was a glint of determination in Shinichi’s eyes, one that was so achingly familiar to the expression that had graced Edogawa Conan’s face that it momentarily arrested Kaito’s breath. Shinichi grinned, and Kaito could not help but grin back, content with the knowledge that if Shinichi was the one doing the planning, then he really had nothing to worry about.

They sat companionably for a while longer before Shinichi asked, “Do you think I’ll ever regain my memories?”

Kaito frowned contemplatively. “Honestly, Shinichi, I couldn’t tell you. The antidote—at least the second time around—was only meant to buy Haibara and I time while we figured out how to halt the progression of your Alzheimer’s. But despite everything we tested, nothing seemed to work. And through all that time, you just kept growing. Neither of us has given up—not unless you truly want us to. Until you give us the red light, I know that both of us will keep searching for a cure—a preventative— _anything_ to get your original memories back.” Despite not knowing the exact numbers, Shinichi knew a large chunk of the grant money both Kaito and Haibara earned had been funneled towards research on early-onset Alzheimer’s.

Shinichi was, and always had been warmed deeply by his father’s earnestness. And though he yearned to have that part of his life back, to know exactly what he had been through, the fact that he had such a large and supportive family had eased that knowing desire into something manageable, something that he could and was still learning to cope with. He might not have the memories of Kudou Shinichi, but his friends did and had maintained their bonds with him, and he could not have been more blessed by the gods to have people like Ran and Heiji in his life on top of both sets of parents. He was fifteen now, and in the ten years he had lived as a Kuroba, he had gained so many wonderful memories.

“You know,” he said softly, eyes staring into the fire, “Despite that fact that I _do_ want to remember, if I never regain those memories, that’s okay—because if you had not been there, I would not have any memories whatsoever to speak of.” Shinichi turned to lock his cerulean eyes with Kaito’s indigo ones. “You’ve already given me so much. I can’t keep asking you for more.”

Kaito wrapped his arm around his adopted son and formal rival, ally, and friend. “Of course you can. You _always_ can.”

\---

_The gift of eternity has been broken_

_With the disappearance of crimson_

_Like Qin Shi Huang’s unifying Victory,_

_Vanished with the rise of the Han_

_Moon with the Pig ruling the skies._

_-Kaitou KID_

\---

Shinichi watched with no small amount of awe as Kaito prepared his equipment for his final heist. All these years of living in Kaito’s old room and he had no idea that a portal existed behind the portrait of Kuroba Touichi—there had been no reason to suspect, after all, since Shinichi had never minded the painting and rather liked it. Being able to see his adopted grandfather’s face, along with seeing his father’s and his own, sometimes allowed him to believe that he was actually related to them by blood and that they were truly a family in every sense of the word—considering how similar they all looked.

The portrait was one of several entrances into Kaitou KID’s workroom scattered throughout the Kuroba household, and the first time Shinichi had seen his father disappear through the painting his heart had nearly stopped. The painting itself rotated on a vertical axis down the center, flipping between the image of the magician Kuroba Touichi and the thief Kaitou KID. Shinichi had poked his head through the opening only to stare in awe at the extensive space that the house hid. There were workbenches lining the walls, along with shelves of gadgets and papers…

Shinichi had immediately jumped through, landing on the worn leather armchair before hopping up to shadow his father as he began peruse his equipment stash. Occasionally something would catch the young detective’s attention and he would lean in for a better look. He knew by now, after months of chasing KID that appearances were deceiving, and that many of the items inside this room were likely hazardous in some form or fashion, be it chemically, biologically, or physically. He had pelted his father with questions, to which Kaito had laughingly answered without reservation.

Being able to watch his father craft a heist notice was also an experience. It was impressive the amount of research Kaito put into it, carefully choosing his words so that the there were meanings within meanings. He was still chewing over how Kaito had managed to connect the name of a Chinese dynasty with the date of the heist. The Han Dynasty rose following the fall of the Qin, and yet the word “han” also meant “half”—pure coincidence. What were the odds that the name could be used as a hint? When combined with the first word of the subsequent line “moon”, Kaito was telling the Task Force he would show up on the night of the next half moon. The time was easier, the Pig being the giveaway.

The target for this heist was the Qin Victory, one of many rubies the second Emperor Qin Er Shi had buried with him in his tomb. His reign had signaled the fall of the Qin Dynasty. A massive star ruby, the gem possessed a perfect hexagonal rutile structure within to create the characteristic six-pronged chatoyance, but the size of it was what made it worthy as a collector’s item. The stone had been smoothed into a cabochon with an intricate Chinese dragon carved in relief. It certainly was not the type of gem Kaitou KID normally pursued, as all of his previous targets had been transparent enough to see through, but considering that Kaito had already found his prize this was no longer an issue for him.

Shinichi had been working alongside his mother in order to entice Division One’s participation in the upcoming heist. The three Kurobas had formulated a plan to draw out KID’s newest assassins. Aoko had been unabashedly vocal with regards to how unhappy with the plan she was since it put Kaito in danger, but Kaito had argued that such danger came with the territory of being Kaitou KID. Shinichi had wisely stayed out of the argument, knowing that if he were forced to pick a side, he would have chosen his father’s. He thanked any god listening that he had not been forced to voice his opinion—there was no need for either him or his father to hear his mother’s speech about her boys’ recklessness—again.

Luckily for the Kuroba family, Aoko managed to gain the cooperation of Division One. It helped that Inspector Satou, who had never before participated in a Kaitou KID heist, was undeniably curious about how KID’s shows operated. With Inspector Hakuba’s help, the two divisions had utilized the plan that the Kurobas had drawn up, and thus the police unknowingly set the stage for what, to the world, would be Kaitou KID’s final heist.

\---

The heist was already well underway. The policemen, per Inspector Hakuba’s orders, had canvassed the buildings surrounding the skyscraper housing the National Japanese Gallery, and though none had been stationed within the buildings, they discreetly observed the building entrances. Already through the earpiece that Shinichi wore, he had heard that six suspicious men carrying long-range sniper rifles had been arrested, having made their way in pairs onto three different buildings with ideal vantage points. Shinichi panted as he chased KID through the halls and up the stairs, not having to pretend difficulty keeping up with the phantom thief. For being five years shy of hitting fifty, his father was still in damn good shape!

He heard the door to the roof slam open, and Shinichi calculated that they had maybe thirty seconds before the rest of the Task Force arrived. The young detective sailed through the portal two seconds later as the quiet but distinctive whoosh of a high-speed projectile reached his ears, and he barely registered the sound as his world went black and he tumbled sideways, knocked off his feet, unable to get his arm up to use his stun-gun wristwatch. Kaito and Aoko had given the weapon back to him in the event that the plans they had laid out went awry and he needed backup. He and his assailant rolled on the ground before he was yanked back, vision unshielded to find he was behind one the walls of the stairwell. KID had lunged at him, rolling them to cover, and his cape had been the reason Shinichi had been unable to see.

“Kaitou KID!” a rough but calm voice growled, and KID held a gloved finger to his lips, asking for silence. Shinichi nodded. “It’s no use hiding. I know you have it.”

The thief’s customary grin graced his face as he responded lightly with that infuriating, lilting cadence, “Oh? I happen to have lots of things, Grumpy-san; you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Don’t play coy with me, KID,” the man rumbled, the echoing of his voice indicating that he was sidling closer to their hiding spot. “You know exactly what I’m asking for.”

“I might,” the phantom thief conceded, and in the distance they could hear the approach of helicopters, which would be the police. One helicopter approached more swiftly than the others, coming to a hover above them as a searchlight shone down on the huddled pair. KID stood to shield him as the unnamed gunman leapt around the corner, but between one breath and the next, Shinichi had been crouched beside the phantom thief and suddenly he was being hoisted into the air by a none-too-gentle arm around his chest and lifted off the rooftop.

Kaitou KID twisted at the reflexive grunt Shinichi released as he was yanked upwards with unmasked fear in his eyes, and that moment of distraction was all that was needed for the gunman to shoot the thief in the leg.

 _“KID!”_ Shinichi screamed, and though he yearned to struggle to get his captor to release him, he recognized the fact that they hung just off the edge of the building hundreds of meters above the open streets and instead latched his fingers around the man’s belt, watching with tight-knuckled horror as the magician crumpled with a pained grunt. _TOU-SAN!_ The man advanced with an air of certain victory, his fedora shielding his face from Shinichi’s view, and Shinichi could only watch helplessly as his father tilted his head, presumably to watch his assailant’s approach. By this time the other helicopters had approached and realized the severity of the situation.

“Now, KID,” he roared over the sound of the helicopter’s rotors as he pressed the muzzle of his silenced gun to the blue band of KID’s hat, “Where is Pandora?!”

Shinichi watched, heart beating in terror in his throat, as KID replied something too faint for him to catch before he smashed a smoke bomb at the floor, screening the rooftop from view. Then he was free fall despite the fact that his captor’s arm was still around his chest. There was sharp, nauseating heave that stopped their fall before they were swinging towards the windowed exterior of the building that housed the National Japanese Gallery. Had Shinichi not laced his fingers into his abductor’s belt, he would have assuredly slid out of the man’s grasp. But as it was, Shinichi, realizing what his father was doing, braced himself for impact against the glass.

The panel exploded in a shower of shards around the young detective as he, his captor, and KID tumbled to a halt inside the office space. Shinichi rolled onto his feet, using the stun–gun wristwatch he had once used as Edogawa Conan, modified by the professor to fit his larger frame to knock out his abductor. The phantom thief whimpered as he crawled to his feet and limped to a support column, tying the rope from his grappling gun around it. Shinichi was immediately there, helping to tie off a secure knot on the rope that was oddly taut and led out and up from the broken window.

“The other end’s attached to the helicopter,” KID explained wearily, cutting the rope and stowing the grappling gun.

Shinichi watched the phantom thief who was his father wince. “Can you make it out before the police get here?” he asked worriedly.

KID grinned weakly before performing a quick change that left him in his reconnaissance blacks and with extra strips of cloth in his hands. “I can make it back home, provided I don’t bleed out before I reach it,” he answered as he wrapped and tied the strips off around his right thigh. “Lucky for me, I don’t really need my legs to fly. Landing might be a pain though.” The last part was muttered under his breath.

The young detective helped Kaito to the window, murmuring a promise to see him soon before watching his father disappear into the Tokyo night sky. Shinichi patted his ear, suddenly aware that his earpiece had been dislodged. He replaced it to find his mother frantically calling for him. _“—ichi?! Shinichi?! Where are you, Shinichi?!”_

“I’m here, Kaa-san,” he replied, cutting through her increasingly desperate calls.

 _“What happened?”_ Aoko demanded, worry evident in her voice.

“KID and I got ambushed on the rooftop before the helicopters arrived by a single gunman and two of his associates in a helicopter. They grabbed me as a distraction and shot KID,” he said softly, keeping an eye on his sedated abductor.

_“Oh my god, are you okay?”_

“I’m fine, Kaa-san. I’m still in the building—” he replied, squinting at one of the room numbers, “—on the twenty-ninth floor. I’ve one of the men here, sedated. I also have their helicopter tied to the building, so the pilot can’t run. Did you get the guy on the roof?”

 _“Yes. Hakuba-keiji tackled him. There was a KID dummy on the roof with a bullet hole through his head.”_ She released a shuddery sigh. _“I take it KID escaped?”_

“Yeah. He’s injured though.” Shinichi closed his eyes, wondering if heists as harrowing as this had been a routine part of his father’s life as Kaitou KID. He sighed, suddenly feeling beyond exhausted. “Can we go home, Kaa-san?” he asked plaintively. He desperately wished to see his father again, to ensure that Kaito was still alive and not bleeding out on a street somewhere between Minato and Ekoda.

 _“Of course,”_ Aoko replied, _“I’ll be by with backup to grab your man, then we’ll head home.”_

\---

Shinichi burst through the front door, kicking off his shoes and sprinting into the house without regard for his house slippers, though Aoko was not far behind him once she had closed and locked the door. “Tou-san!” he called, eyes roving the house for the familiar figure of his father.

“Kaito?” Aoko shouted, her expression screaming her anxiety. “Where is that idiot?”

“The workroom,” Shinichi breathed, certain of the sudden brainwave. “Tou-san’s in the workroom!”

The pair scrambled to the faux closet that housed the metal stairwell that descended into the KID workroom. They froze at the base, finding the object of their search sitting in the worn leather armchair, silently contemplating the KID outfit that hung in its wardrobe. There was a blood-spattered hole in the right thigh of the KID costume, where Kaito had been shot. The magician in question had already changed into a clean set of clothing and was absently rolling the Heart of Mahal Mumtaz in one hand and Qin Victory in the other.

“You know,” Kaito murmured, his voice barely breaking the stillness of the room as he pulled his eyes down to gaze at the Heart of Mahal Mumtaz while vanishing the Qin Victory, “There were times when I thought I would never live beyond being Kaitou KID.” His brows furrowed as he stared, unaware of his family’s approach until they each laid a hand on his shoulders. His fingers curled tightly around the cursed ruby. His breath hitched. “Even now, it… it all feels like a dream.” Kaito raised his eyes to gaze at his son and his wife, tears pooling in his eyes. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, Kaito,” Aoko answered gently as she leaned down to hug him around the shoulders, pressing her cheek against his.

Shinichi remained where he stood, though he transferred his hand from Kaito’s shoulder to his free hand, giving his father’s fingers a warm squeeze. “You’re not dreaming,” he finished, watching as his father sank back into the chair with a sigh and released silent tears of relief.

Between Aoko and Shinichi, they managed to get Kaito back into the living room after properly stowing away Kaitou KID’s damaged costume. Aoko checked Kaito’s wound, which luckily did not require stitches, while Shinichi made tea. The family of three settled onto the couch after Aoko had cleaned, packed, and dressed the injury, Kaito seated in the middle with Aoko on one side and Shinichi on the other.

“So what happened on that rooftop?” the Division One policewoman asked, since she had been roaming the hallways and therefore had not seen the action with the turncoat helicopter.

“Tou-san and I made it to the rooftop, just the two of us. He tackled me the moment I stepped out of the stairwell. I thought I heard a bullet…?” Shinichi mentioned quizzically.

“You’re not wrong,” Kaito acceded. “Had I not pushed you, you would have had a bullet in your eye.”

Aoko gasped while Shinichi paled. He had no idea that he had come that close to dying. The homicide detective took a few gulps to steady herself. “And…?”

Shinichi continued after giving his father time to pick the tale back up. “We hid behind the stairwell while Tou-san and that man danced around the topic of Pandora. One of the helicopters that I though was Hakuba-keiji’s turned out to belong to the other guys. They dropped a line and grabbed me before I had time to react.” Shinichi ducked his head. “Because of me, Tou-san got shot in the leg.”

“Hey,” Kaito soothed, voice soft but firm. “I would have willingly taken a hundred shots if it meant you were unharmed,” he said, ruffling Shinichi’s hair gently before pulling his son further into his side.

“I wouldn’t ever want that,” Shinichi muttered emphatically as he curled into the warm of his father’s side. _“Ever.”_

“Of course.” Kaito snorted softly at his son’s antics before he picked up the tale. “My options were rather limited then, with me relatively immobile and Shinichi dangling off the building. I told the man that Pandora would never be his before I dropped a smoke bomb with knock out gas in it. I barely ducked in time to replace myself with that dummy that got shot in the head. To get Shinichi to safety, I had to sprint towards the helicopter before severing the rope he and his captor were hanging from, all the while praying that Shinichi would have somehow secured himself better to the guy holding the rope. I cut it with a card before simultaneously snagging the helicopter with my grappling gun and grabbing the rope with the two of you attached to it. I had to use your momentum to swing us into the building.”

Kaito neglected to mention how narrow a window he had had in which to grab the broken rope holding Shinichi and his captor. He had dove off the building, arm outstretched in order to reach that flapping, teasing end, snagging it just as he twisted midair and shot the hook of his grappling gun at the helicopter’s belly. The magician would never admit aloud how frightened he had been—not for himself, but for his son. The overpowering fear from the possibility of the rope slipping through his grasp would be a nightmare he knew he would endure for years to come.

“And you know the rest of it,” Shinichi finished, savoring the feel of Kaito’s fingers carding through his hair. Normally Shinichi disliked anyone messing with his hair, but as he had nearly lost his father this night, he not only allowed it, but also relished in the sensation.

Kaito turned to his wife, her gaze distant and thoughtful as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Aoko…?”

Her eyes slowly rolled to meet his, and it was easy to read her love, fear, and relief in those gorgeous orbs. “You’re done,” she said softly, voice painfully grateful. “I’m just—so glad you’re still here with me,” finally said with a wobbly smile.

Kaito pulled both his wife and son closer to his sides, placing a loving kiss on both of their heads. “As am I,” he answered, “As am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: So the heist completely stumped me for a while, hence the reason there was such along time between chapter completions. But I am glad I finally got this one done! I admit to feeling my nose itch a little while writing this one, since it’s rather sappy and all, but family fics make me feel all WAFF-y all over. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> \---
> 
> Completed: 23.11.2015


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